Secrets
by Graveygraves
Summary: One night could have changed everything - if only they had the chance to find out. Written for CCOAC challenge 12. Hint of Femslash and spoilers for season 6. Story has been beta'd, please read and review.


**Secrets**

**Disclaimer ****–**** I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is my entry for the Chit Chat on Author****'****s Corner; Writers of the Silver Screen Challenge. **

**I chose Emily Prentiss and the film ****'****The Spy Who Loved Me****'****, my additional character was JJ. I hope this counts as Emily doesn****'****t actually say a word in this.**

**. . . . .**

As JJ followed the coffin to its final resting place, she mentally repeated the mantra that had kept her going for the last few days: '_Emily Prentiss is not dead, Emily Prentiss is not dead_'.

Yet somehow the tale she had managed to weave seemed to be blurring into reality as she trod the path to 'Emily's grave'. Each time she repeated the lie, or comforted a friend, she believed it a little bit more herself. She believed she'd never see Emily again.

Standing next to Morgan at the grave side, she could hear Penelope's soft sobs behind her. Trying hard to maintain her composure, she stepped forward. It had been agreed that JJ would be the first to lay a single blood red rose on the sleek black casket.

JJ could feel the slight tremble in her legs as she made those tentative steps. _This is ridiculous, _she thought. She knew this was all a smoke screen, that Emily was alive and recovering well. Yet she struggled to hold the tears that threatened to spill, as she mourned her own personal loss.

Taking a step back she waited as she watched the team, one by one, place their roses; Morgan, Seaver, Garcia, Reid, Rossi and finally Hotch.

As he took his place at the head of the team, the family, he gave her a knowing look. Briefly JJ met his gaze, unable to do so for long, scared he would realised the meaning behind her tears.

Staring straight ahead, JJ couldn't look at her former colleagues. She couldn't comfort her friend Spencer, who stood so near to her, and tried to be so strong for her. She couldn't even offer out a hand to him, as Morgan had done for Garcia, because it may betray all she held within.

As they stood there together, the gentle spring sunshine dappling the ground, through the bright new leaves, JJ wondered how they would move forward; _if they had really done the best thing._ As each was lost in their own thoughts, she silently prayed for the strength she needed to see this through.

. . . . .

JJ had made her excuses and left the wake as soon as she possibly could. She registered the looks of concern, but couldn't stand it any longer.

Entering her empty home, Will had taken Henry on one of his trips 'home', JJ kicked off her heels and let her coat drop to the floor. She could almost hear her son mimicking her voice and telling her to pick it up, but tonight she didn't care.

Pouring a large gin and tonic, she curled up on the couch, resting her head on one hand. Closing her eyes she could picture Emily, sat the other end of the couch, a large glass of red wine in her hand. That night had changed everything, and sadly nothing.

JJ remembered how Emily had come to see her the weekend after her transfer out of the BAU. It was another of Will's weekends away; he had a trip back home once a month. She had brought a bottle of wine to share. Emily knew how JJ felt about leaving, and she had wanted JJ to know that no matter what they would remain friends. But what happened that night had clouded things.

Sipping her drink slowly, she sighed as she recollected how one glass was followed by another, until one bottle became two.

As they had drunk they had shared stories, jogging memories of their time together. Even now JJ didn't fully know how it happened. She didn't remember them getting closer on the couch. She could recall slumping back against the soft cushions, as she laughed at Emily's impression of Hotch. Scorched in her memory was the look in Emily's eyes, just before she leant forward. The look of lust mixed with hope and a hint of confusion.

Time had seemed to slow as Emily inched her way forward, JJ remembering freezing, realising what was happening but being powerless to stop it. Even now she doubted she would have stopped her, even with the hurt she now felt, that's moment's pleasure was worth it.

JJ was aware of the tears that had threatened to overflow all day, now cascading down her cheeks. She lifted a finger to her lips as if she could physically feel the burn of that first chaste kiss. The soft brush, as Emily tested for a reaction.

JJ had reacted, by gently leaning into the kiss, as she entwined her fingers in Emily's shining jet black hair. That moment seemed to last forever as neither wanted to push further.

Eventually JJ parted her lips slightly, inviting more from her friend, and she hadn't been disappointed. As Emily had cupped JJ's face in her hands, their tongues had begun to explore each other's mouths in a way JJ had never experienced before. Emily seemed to have the perfect balance of greed and care. JJ felt loved from that very moment.

JJ closed her eyes, letting her head loll back against the couch as she pictured every moment of the night they had shared. Her body tingled as she thought about the way Emily had made her feel, as she had caressed her. Each touch had enlightened sensations in her that she never knew were possible. JJ had never had such an attentive lover.

One night. All JJ had wished for in the months that followed was a repeat, but each time they made plans, something happened. Henry was sick, Penelope found out they were meeting up and joined them, Will fell out with his sister and stayed at home, and the list went on, until JJ realised that she hadn't heard from Emily in a while.

She called Emily several times, but could detect the distance in her voice and the excuses she used were laughable. JJ had assumed Emily had felt it was a mistake, that she had regretted her actions. If she had only known then what she knew now…

Now she knew that Doyle had caused Emily to create a distance between her and her friends. Knowing that didn't make the rejection easier, just understandable.

Alone JJ sobbed for what may have been.

Emily Prentiss may not be physically dead, but she wasn't alive - she wouldn't be as long as Doyle could cast a shadow over her - and now JJ would never know what may have been.

. . . . .

Walking down the Parisian street, the cool night air brushed JJ's face. She focused ahead, as she saw the familiar raven haired woman, sat reading the paper outside the cafe they had agreed to meet at.

As she approached, the woman folded the paper and put it on the table. As JJ sat, their eyes met for the first time in months. JJ could clearly see the sadness in them, which made it all the harder to mask her own pain.

Swallowing, JJ promised herself she would keep things professional, not allowing her emotions to cloud the issue. As she handed the large brown envelope over, she wanted to reach out and take Emily's hand. But she knew she couldn't, she mustn't. Emily had enough to face, without adding to her problems. Instead she briefly explained the contents.

As Emily took charge of the package, they shared a last look. A look that spoke a thousand words yet had nothing meaningful for either to hang onto.

"Good Luck," the words seemed so pathetic, but all JJ could manage in the circumstance, tears building in her eyes.

She watched as Emily rose, without saying a word, and walked away into the night. Tearing her eyes away, she looked down at the table, her mind racing, _would she ever she her again? _

As JJ lifted the cup of coffee she had ordered after Emily's departure, unable to move from the table they had briefly shared. She made a silent toast: 'To the spy who loved me - if only for one night', she added sorrowfully.

. . . . .

**So when I picked my prompt I never imagined JJ would be the other character. I have never attempted femslash or even hinted it before, but I am considering doing a one-shot of their night together. What do people think?**


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